


Don't Tell Me Tomorrow

by firedew



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Angst, Dancing, F/M, Fireworks, Mild Sexual Content, New Year's Eve, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-13
Updated: 2015-01-02
Packaged: 2018-03-01 05:47:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2761877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firedew/pseuds/firedew
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Atlantis is on Earth and the New Year is rolling around. It's the season for change and, while some are choosing to come together, others are wondering if it's time to let go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Wedjatqi](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Wedjatqi).



> Written for the LJ Beya Secret Elf Exchange 2012, this was my gift to Wedjatqi.

It was a simple question, one that never should have thrown him the way it did, but John Sheppard found himself flatfooted and needing to buy himself some time. Trying to be smooth, John reached for the dinner roll on his tray, took an unnecessarily large bite and with a triumphant glint in his eye, let a shrug do his talking for him. An annoyed eye roll from Rodney and a barely audible chuckle from Ronon gave him the satisfaction—and more importantly, the time—he needed to come up with an answer he could live with.

The mess hall was buzzing. After a few weeks in the San Francisco Bay and the harrowing task of moving Atlantis further out into the Pacific under a jury rigged power supply, things had hardly slowed down at all. The IOA had rapidly become a pain in the ass, although that had come as no surprise to anyone. Every other week, there was another very important foreign dignitary wishing to see the mythical city, and as it's keepers, they were expected to roll out the red carpet for each one. A new wave of scientists had arrived quickly, most of them eager to dig into the heaps of relics left behind by the Ancients. Armed with a little training, noble motives, and the innocence of the uninitiated, they went tromping through the many unexplored areas of the city, giving Mr. Woolsey, John, and their escorts a few more gray hairs in the process. And as the conflict with the Lucian Alliance had escalated, John found himself, his team, and countless others under his command being pressed into what was rapidly starting to resemble another all out war.

Finally, Mr. Woolsey had put his foot down with the IOA and the SGC, a bold move that John hadn't seen coming and gave the man all the credit in the world for taking. After a long separation from home, some of them for years with only the occasional reprieve, the people stationed on Atlantis were overdue some leave. They had more than earned it and they deserved it. And since the holidays had been coming up, the timing couldn't have been better.

Leaves for everyone had been split into shifts. Some had gone over the Thanksgiving holidays. Others had gotten the two weeks before Christmas and were now returning home with new memories and filling the mess hall with stories of going sledding with the nieces and nephews, going a little heavy on the eggnog, and one side-splitting story about the breaking of a wishbone gone terribly wrong. The tales left John feeling conflicted. He was glad to see everyone had had a wonderful time. There was a renewed energy in the city again. Reconnecting with home and family had done wonders to recharge everyone's batteries. But on the flip side, it set rolling an insidious pang of regret that had been curling in his stomach for at least a year and a half. And if John was being honest with himself, a lot longer.

“So, where are you going?” Rodney snidely repeated the question.

John arched his eyebrow and ducked the question again. “What does it matter where I'm going? Don't you have enough to worry about already?”

Going with the last rotation of personnel, John and his team were leaving in a few days. New Years' Eve and the two weeks following belonged to them and Rodney had plans to go with Keller. To Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin. To meet her father.

“What's to worry about?” the high-strung physicist replied, suspiciously blasé about the whole thing.

“You really think you're ready for this? Meeting the parents is kind of a big step, McKay.”

“I think I can handle it.” Rodney shifted in his chair. “After all, I'm … I'm very serious about Jennifer.”

John casually leaned back in his chair. “Glad to hear it, Rodney, because usually once the whole parent thing is out of the way, that's when they usually start throwing around the 'm' word.”

“M? Um … Mm-merchandise? You think she'll want to go shopping?”

Caught off-guard, John nearly tipped his chair backward as a sudden burst of laughter pealed from his throat.

“Makeout?” Rodney tried again, this time with an almost too innocent timber in his voice.

“No,” Ronon muttered.

Rodney picked up a grape off of his tray and tossed it at the dumbstruck warrior. It pinged off Ronon's chest harmlessly, but the move earned McKay a less than impressed arch of the eyebrow. “I know he's talking about marriage!” Rodney said indignantly. “Honestly. Does everyone around here think I'm completely oblivious?”

Sheppard and Ronon answered in concert. “Yes.”

“Well, it just so happens that Jennifer and I have already discussed the subject and we've both agreed that we're not quite there yet. This trip is just a … a breaking of the ice, as it were. A simple introduction. I'll talk to her father and then we'll have a nice no-pressure vacation.”

“Sounds very … _nice_ , Rodney. And very mature, for you,” John congratulated him. “But, just to be clear—she agreed or _you_ agreed?”

Rodney stared back at John, perplexed. “What difference does it make?”

“Oh, yeah. This trip is gonna go well.” John dug back into his dinner.

“I don't know why you're both so worried about me. I'm not the one going with his girlfriend to the devil's sauna, where marriages are quick and divorces even quicker,” Rodney mumbled pointedly with a mouthful of mashed potatoes. “If anyone's in danger of going off and coming back married, it's Ronon. Not me. Who spends New Year's in Las Vegas, anyway?”

“Amelia,” Ronon growled.

“Rumor has it she grew up there and I'll bet it's a great place to ring in New Year's. Probably a helluva fireworks show,” John said. No. He couldn't see himself spending more than a day or two in Vegas, let alone his entire leave. But in light of the paperwork that had been done legitimizing Ronon's existence on Earth, McKay had a point. He nudged Ronon with an elbow. “I did warn you about all the little wedding chapels though, didn't I?”

“Yup. Along with 'no decking hotel security'...”

“Or anyone else for that matter,” John amended.

Ronon grinned as he continued reciting the rules of engagement for his vacation with Banks. “Avoid anyone handing out leaflets … ”

“You're probably better off avoiding street level altogether.”

“And wear sunscreen,” Ronon finished.

John shot him a confused look. “I didn't tell you that.”

“No, O wise one, that was me,” Rodney chimed in. “The sun there is ridiculous.”

“It's December.”

“Like that matters. I'm just trying to help Ronon avoid spending his leave looking like a sun-dried tomato.”

John was about to let another wisecrack fly, but he stopped short. Over Rodney's shoulder, Teyla had cut a path through the noisy crowd, leaning to one side and moving awkwardly. TJ's tiny fingers were latched onto hers as he wobbled along beside her, eyes gleaming widely as he stared up, fascinated by all the people surrounding him. John smiled. Walking was a skill the toddler was still perfecting, but he couldn't have been prouder if he had been the boy's father. If only he'd had the guts to tell her …

Teyla scanned the room, presumably to see if her friends were there yet, and caught him eying her. The radiant smile that appeared both lit him up and stung inside. Kanaan was there hovering noiselessly behind her, completing the picture of a happy family. His gaze dropped away. She was gone and no amount of wishful thinking on his part was going to change things. The little Athosian family got in line to get their meal for the evening and suddenly, John wasn't hungry anymore. He cleared away the heavy feeling growing in his throat. He hadn't even lost her. She'd never been his in the first place and that fact hurt more than he could stomach.

“Enough with the secrets, Sheppard. Two weeks to yourself and all that combat pay burning a hole in your pocket … Let me guess, you're spending your two weeks buried in a pile of half-witted, bikini-clad supermodels?”

John managed to put on a smile. “Not a bad idea, McKay.” He'd rather spend his two weeks on a tropical beach somewhere, alone, riding the waves and soaking up the sun, but for once, he didn't mind the Kirk comments. The idea had its appeal. No self-respecting womanizer spent over a year of their life nursing a broken heart.

Shaking his head, the scientist gruffly said, “Fine. Don't tell me where your going. I guess we can just swap stories when we get back. I'll regale you with my harrowing journey into the world of fine dining in small town Wisconsin, Ronon will finally answer that timeless question and tell us what happens when a Satedan meets a hooker for the first time, and you can tell us all about the new STD you've picked up. Should be fun.”

“Actually, Rodney … ” John cast one last glance toward Teyla. Kanaan was carrying her tray while she had scooped up TJ, cradling him in her arms. They were headed their way. John picked up his tray and stood up. “I think I'm gonna spend my leave at my brother's place. I sort of owe him and his family a visit and … I, uh, need some time to think. I'll see you guys later.”

John hustled out of the mess hall.

Rodney asked across the table, “What was that about?”

Ronon stared back at him, his mouth curled in chagrin. No matter how he protested to the contrary, Rodney _was_ oblivious.


	2. Chapter 2

Teyla wandered through her quarters checking the floor, seeking out the scattered toys and picking them up as she found them. Taking his cue from the start of their nightly routine, Torren started toward the second bedroom. Teyla smiled to herself, throwing a stuffed bear into the brown woven basket the toys called home. Knowing his bedtime would soon be upon him, her young son hoped to find refuge with his father. A few wobbly paces on his feet led the boy back to his knees. To his young limbs, crawling was still the faster mode of travel. As she knelt down to check under the couch, she saw through the open doorway Torren pulling himself up by the bedsheets, and taking those last clumsy steps toward Kanaan, who plucked the boy up into his arms. The strings of conflict tugged on her heart. Soon, her son would no longer have his father to run to at night.

She quickly finished the last of the tidying up. Following in Torren's wake, she walked toward Kanaan's room and stopped at the threshold.

Kanaan smiled at her when Torren buried his face in the crook of his neck, doing his best to hide. “Is bath time upon us so soon?”

“I'm afraid so,” she said.

“The days seem to be moving faster,” he said, disbelieving. “Only a few remain.”

_And things will never quite be the same._ Teyla tried not let the doleful timber of his voice effect her. “You and he will still spend many nights together.”

Kanaan nodded. “Yes, we will.”

She noted the lightly packed bag resting on Kanaan's bed. “Are you certain that is all you will need?”

“Not entirely,” he said, “but Major Lorne assures me that we can easily acquire anything else.” His countenance seemed to lighten. “I must admit the marketplaces of this world sound … wondrous. I should very much like to see one.”

Teyla smiled. Her own memories of shopping on Earth were implanted there by alien beings, but John had shared that experience with her and assured her that they were accurate. She remembered fondly getting lost in the size and scope of the building and John leading her to where she might best find what interested her. The sheer volume and variety of things available to a buyer had been overwhelming and he had been patient as she found her footing. He had never hurried her along, allowing her to enjoy herself even after he had grown tired of it himself. So often she forgot that day had been an illusion. It had all seemed so real, but in the end, the only thing real about it had been John. “I am sure the Major will be happy to take you.”

Kanaan set Torren down on the bed. The toddler's interest in the leather bag was apparent when he immediately began tugging on the clothing neatly packed inside. Kanaan stood up, letting his son play. He glanced toward the aged, wooden dresser. “I will have the rest of my belongings moved before I leave.”

“That is not necessary. Your new quarters will still be waiting when you return,” she said. Simply because he was moving out, she did not want him to feel unwelcome.

“I think it's best,” he explained.

She delicately tipped her head, supposing he was right. Saying goodbye to his son once would be hard enough, even if it was only for a few weeks. There was no need to do it twice. At least this way, when Kanaan returned from his trip, they could simply start living their new lives. A clean break, as it were.

“Are you certain you are ready, Kanaan?” she asked.

He was. Not only had Dr. Hiller had told her as much, she had been seeing the signs as well. The nightmares that had plagued him, sending him screaming into the stillness of night, had finally gone. There had been many a night she came home to find him staring out the windows, distant and sometimes completely absent, but he had left those days behind him as well. Teyla had often wondered what he sought out in the black veil of the night sky. Was it the silence he found so appealing? The solitude? Did it grant him a refuge from the memories haunting him or was he simply trying to lose himself in the great emptiness above? Teyla never knew because she never dared ask, not once in all the many months since his return. Michael had only targeted her people to strike back at her and Teyla had yet to reconcile her own guilt because of it. She knew his answer would only cause them both pain, so she held her peace and left Kanaan to his sanctuary.

But Teyla needed to make certain he would be alright. Besides being a dear friend and the father of her child, she owed him that much.

“You know you may stay as long as you need.”

Kanaan smiled in his own shy way. “I am grateful that you care enough to make the offer, but it is time. I fear I have remained too long. For both of us.” He released a sigh. “And what better time? Is it not also the season for change among the Lanteans?”

“Yes,” she replied. It was good to see him embracing the people of Atlantis as she had. “I believe they view the new year as a time to make change and begin anew.”

He nodded. “And since it appears this world is to be our home—for a time, at least—I think it best we observe some of their traditions. For myself, I must find my own place in this new world. And for you … ”

Curious, Teyla tilted her head. “What would you wish for me?”

A squeal of delight came from the bed. Torren had managed to put his arms through one of his father's shirts, tangling himself thoroughly in the rest, but was very pleased with himself. “Mum mum …”

Teyla giggled. Kanaan smiled at her and she suddenly felt self-conscious. “I have always wished nothing but happiness for you, Teyla.”

“I am happy,” she said.

Kanaan cast her a knowing look. She had told that same lie so many times, not even she believed it anymore. In truth, she had so much. A people she was proud to be a part of, a home filled with wonders both great and terrible, friends as near to family as friends could be, and above all, there was Torren. But a part of her felt incomplete, bereft of something it had never known. She had thought it buried deeply enough, but Kanaan had known her too long and too well to be fooled.

“You are a formidable woman, Teyla. You have helped me to recover from the changes wrought on my body and the wounds to my soul, all while also caring for our son and battling those who would destroy us. But even such a person needs more than duty to be fully satisfied.”

“Do you believe I helped you only out of duty?” she asked. It distressed her to think he believed of himself that way.

His hand reached for hers. “I believe you loved me, Teyla, as you do still. As a friend you've had since before memory. But I am not the one with whom you would choose to spend a lifetime.”

A deep sadness squeezed her chest. “How long have you known?”

“From the moment the Lanteans walked into our village that first day, I knew that, should I ever be fortunate enough to have you look my way, I could not keep you forever. Was I wrong?”

Teyla shook her head. As though she had spent every moment before living in a daze, she had truly awoken that night along with her father's necklace. John's strong hands around her neck, studying her so carefully it made her skin tingle. The memory still rendered her breathless. “No, you were not wrong. I never meant to hurt you, Kanaan.”

“Teyla, I consider our time together to be a most special period in my life and I am the better for it.” He chuckled at the squirming ball on his bed, kicking out at his sleeves. “The Ancestors chose to grant us a son. What more could I have wanted?” Kanaan's dark eyes gazed down on her. His thumb brushed her cheek softly as though he were already saying goodbye. “I cannot in good conscience continue to stand in the way.”

A lump formed in her throat. There were still times late at night when she would remember those few, magical moments they had shared when she still carried Torren. How John had held her, comforted her, and hadn't hesitated to kill when she'd needed his help. When he had reached for her as her son kicked for first time, the warmth of his hands on her stomach and his crooked grin made some small part of her sing. Simple as it was, it had been the most glorious sensation she'd ever experienced. Then, inevitably, she would realize what a foolish pursuit it was. Even if John had ever looked at her as a man does a woman, those days were long past.

Aside from their work, they rarely spent any time together anymore. With Torren, he was magnificent, but when they were alone it was different. It was nothing he said, but she always felt he'd rather be elsewhere and so often, he would suddenly make his excuses and leave. Even tonight at dinner, he'd disappeared soon after her arrival. The memory of his empty chair reignited the raw ache inside that never seemed far away.

Kanaan studied her and she could only shake her head. “It is not you that stands in the way, Kanaan. I … I do not believe he feels as I do.”

He reached out his arms and nestled his forehead to hers. Teyla leaned in, hoping that in the comfort of his friendship the terrible feeling would ease.

Kanaan spoke, unassuming but sure. “Then, you do not see.”


	3. Chapter 3

She dropped her hand. That one innocuous mistake had brought him here, her luscious body pinned between him and the cold, steel wall, adrenaline rippling through his veins, his heart pounding. Locked in a feverish kiss, John's lips surged against hers, his tongue tasting her, just as sweet as he remembered. She felt so good tucked in against him, so warm, so right.

Breathless, her chest heaving, she'd congratulated him on his victory. “Very good, John. I see your time training with Ronon has not been wasted.”

“He's a good teacher.”

“Yes, he is. Even so, I am glad you decided to join me today.”

“Me, too.”

“I have missed our sessions together,” she'd said, the light of the gym setting her eyes aglow. She lightly brushed his arm. In that instant, without swinging a single weapon, she'd completely disarmed him.

“Me, too,” he admitted in a hoarse whisper.

“Why did we ever stop?”

“Because … it was too hard.”

Their bantos rods lay on the floor of the gym abandoned and forgotten. Teyla's fingers ran up his neck into his hair pulling him in closer, deeper, leaving fiery trails radiating over the surface of his skin.  _Her hand. She dropped her hand._ John shoved the thought aside, eager to experience her in every way he couldn't before, desperate to bury his heartache. 

The delicate skin of her neck called to him, a siren's song as beautiful as any he had ever heard or would again. She tipped back, freeing his way, silently pleading for his lip's caress. He yanked the strap of her top to fall limply from her shoulder and slowly worked his way down her neck, along the alluring line of her collarbone until he felt her shivering with pleasure. As his mouth explored every exquisite curve, he let his hands wander. One was content to hug her to him, while the other dared more, sliding inside the slit of her fighting leathers to savor the white hot skin underneath. 

“Oh, John … ” she moaned, her eyelids fluttering to a close. She reached under his shirt, brushing his torso with her sweet touch. Those hands. So deadly, yet he couldn't live another minute without knowing what it felt like to be caressed by them.  “Tell me. Tell me what you want.”

“You know what I want,” he said, low and guttural. How could she not? Every time he looked at her, it felt as though it was written across his forehead in big, bold letters. Every time he spoke, he heard his feelings betraying him. She knew how much he wanted her, how much he needed her. She had to. 

“Tell me.” 

“You, Teyla. I want you.”

Her hands abruptly moved away from his waist. She cupped his cheeks and his torrid discovery of her body was stalled as he was enjoying her deliciously round behind. Her eyes pleaded with him to understand, to see. “John, please.” 

He gently swept her hair aside. Adrift in the magnetic pools of her eyes, he knew she wanted to hear what he couldn't say aloud. That she was so much more than a night of passion. That her smile made him dizzy and her laugh completely floored him. She needed to know that he'd scale the tower or fly through an atmospheric inferno in a wrecked shell of a space shuttle a hundred times over just for her. He could tell her about all the nights he'd sat up unable to swallow his jealousy of Kanaan, sharing his life with her, wishing TJ was his. And how nothing could have stopped him from going after her when she was taken. He would've done anything to save her and her son from the tragic future he'd seen, even if it meant bleeding out on the deck of Michael's cruiser. 

Only he couldn't tell her any of that. He'd tried so many times, but every time he attempted to summon the words, they left him cold. 

“Teyla, I …”

Those little words that spelled out the truth lodged in his throat. John gazed down on her beautiful features a failure and the disappointment in her eyes knifed through him.

She isn't real, he told himself. She had never been the real Teyla. His Teyla would never have dropped her hand, leaving such an obvious opening in the middle of a sparring match. If he concentrated, he could feel his bedsheets slung haphazardly over his sleeping form, but the feelings roaring in his blood and what they had shared were more real than anything he wanted to go back to. In the real world, she belonged to someone else. She was happy in someone else's arms and all he had to look forward to was the pain of losing her all over again.

The haze over his dreaming mind was fading as he sensed dawn's approach. He clung to her as she began to drift away. Tears were streaming down her face, but he held on tight. He couldn't let her go, not when he was so close. “No … no, don't …” 

Then, she slipped through his grasp anyway as though she had become smoke in the wind. No matter how he tried, he couldn't reach her again. 

“Teyla … ” 

Lying face down on the bed, his eyes sprang open. His arms already ached for her. 

Shattered and alone, John clutched at the ends of his pillow and buried himself in it.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Dr. Jay Felger gaped as the doorway to the transporter slid open. John led the way inside as the scientist's enthusiasm began to overwhelm his pasty white complexion. “Amazing! Absolutely amazing!”

“Is it, really? Is it amazing?” Rodney bristled. 

At this point, Sheppard was used to giving people the nickel tour of the city, but this one was turning out to be more entertaining than most. The jumper bay, the control tower, the VR room—so far, everywhere they'd visited had merited an unbridled 'amazing' and with each successive one, Rodney had gotten stiffer. He was now a noticeable shade of purple. 

“Just you wait, doctor,” John said enticingly. “There's still lots to see and before you know it, we'll be in Sector G, Subsection 4. Deep in the heart of Atlantis.” 

That did it, he thought impishly. Dr. Felger was as wired as a kid on Christmas and McKay glared daggers at him. John suppressed the urge to smile. Maybe Felger was annoying—okay, he was annoying—but the little bit of juvenile satisfaction he got from pushing Rodney's buttons was helping to shake the funk that had dogged his every step this morning. For hours, he'd felt like he was walking around with an open wound, seeing her face everywhere he looked. Well, John was tired of hurting and for the moment, goading Rodney was the best medicine he could think of. He'd make it up to him someday. 

Col. Sheppard reached for the city-wide map display situated on the back wall. 

“Wait, wait, wait!” Dr. Felger cried, throwing up his hands. 

Rodney's jaw twisted into a tight knot. “What now?”

“Isn't anybody gonna say it?” he asked. 

“Say what?” 

“Oh, come on. You know.”

“Obviously, I don't or I wouldn't have asked!” 

“Why don't you do the honors, Dr. Felger?” John broke in. As therapeutic as it was watching Rodney spinning his wheels, it was the last day before the final batch of personnel went on leave (him included) and he still had a lot he had to get done. If they didn't get moving soon, he could kiss his schedule goodbye.

“Really?”

“Absolutely,” John said.

“Oh, wow. Colonel, it is an honor.” 

After an awkward pause, John said, “Anytime you're ready.”

“Oh, right.” The scientist straightened and puffed out his chest. “Beam me up, Scotty.” 

Rodney moaned. “You've gotta be kidding me.” 

Dr. Felger exclaimed excitedly, “I've always wanted to say that.” 

“I'll bet you have,” John muttered, hitting the button with no further delay. 

They managed to get through drone storage relatively quickly, but the geology lab en route to the ZPM outlet proved to be more troublesome. Dr. Gira and her team were studying what, despite the excessively difficult scientific name said, ultimately amounted to a rock. A rock with a tremendously dense core they thought might rank among the hardest substances known to man. Dr. Felger, of course, eagerly peppered them with questions. John decided to give him a minute and hung back. Rodney, finding the rock about as exciting as a root canal, did too. 

“Remind me why he's here again?” McKay muttered.

“Because with all new labs and your being gone for the next two weeks, Radek needed the extra hands,” John reminded him patiently.

“But why him? Need I remind you that this is the same guy that effectively broke every single Stargate in the Milky Way?”

“He's here because General Landry insisted.” 

“Oh, so the general says jump and you give Felger a key to my office?!”

John grinned and folded his arms, satisfied. “Exactly.”

“Okay, Colonel Kangaroo, answer me this—how is anyone supposed to get any work done when he's shouting 'amazing' every ten seconds?”

“It'll be fine, Rodney.” 

“That's easy for you to say.” 

“Buy the guy a thesaurus.”

“Seriously? That's the best you can come up with?” 

John shrugged. “Off the cuff.” 

“You know, after all these years, I've come to expect more out of you,” McKay chided him.

“That hurts, Rodney. That really hurts,” John claimed, but he couldn't help smiling. Every Wraith in Pegasus might've declared their intention to go vegetarian before the great Dr. McKay admitted that he thought John was smart, but he'd just come perilously close. 

_“Colonel Sheppard?”_

Watching Felger peruse the latest topographical schematics from the dig site on MKL-221, John reached for the comm link at his ear. “This is Sheppard. Go ahead.” 

Chuck, the gate tech, sounded anxious. _“Colonel, Staff Sgt. Franklin is still waiting for you to okay the supplies outside to be inventoried. He, uh … he's staring at me, sir.”_

John smirked. At six-foot-two and closely resembling a brick wall, Franklin had a sense of humor to match. Chuck was probably squirming like an ant under a magnifying glass about now. “Tell Franklin to keep his shirt on. I'll be down as soon as I can.”

_“Yes, sir.”_

He stepped into the hallway with Rodney on his heels, scowling. “Don't even think about it. You're not leaving me here with him.” 

“Duty calls, Rodney. You know the drill. You can take it from here, can't you?”

“You planned this,” the cranky Head of Science accused. A subtle shift of John's eyebrows set him off again. “You did, didn't you?!” 

“The supply drop was scheduled a week ago, McKay.” 

“You put Franklin off on purpose just so you could ditch me.” 

John shook his head, amused. “I'd call you paranoid, but would there really be any point?” 

“Oh, just go,” Rodney said gruffly. “But if I snap and beat him to death with my laptop … ”

“ … I'll help you get rid of the body.” John clapped him on the shoulder. 

Rodney eyebrows shot up. “You would? You … really would?” 

Genuine surprise, John observed. How one man could know so much and so little at the same time was beyond him. If it came down to it, he'd have done that and more for the people he cared about. 

“See you later, Rodney.”

 

* * *

 

 

“No, no. Decker, wait,” John called. He made his way through the swirling activity of people to where the mechanized dolly was getting ready to move out. He pointed toward a large storage container situated in the front of the stack, bearing the wrong serial number. “That crate there goes to the Infirmary, not the Armory. You get a bunch of marines unpacking petri dishes and handling ten thousand dollar microscopes and next thing you know, Keller's new toys are broken and the IOA's laying an egg. Get it squared away.” Col. Sheppard quickly scanned the remaining boxes. “The rest of that ordinance is good to go, Lieutenant. And remind Maj. Lorne that I need that count confirmed and his final report on my desk by 19:00.” 

“Yes, sir,” Decker replied, already taking care of the slight mix-up. 

Before he could blink, John found another clipboard being unceremoniously shoved into his hands. Frowning, he picked up the pen and started reading. Sign and date. Next. He flipped to the next page. His eyes racing down the invoice, he called across the room. “Radek, how's it coming?” 

The disheveled scientist sighed, his middle finger pushing his glasses back over the bridge of his nose as he glanced up. “Well enough, Colonel. However, I _still_ do not see the high-intensity absorption spectrometer I've been requesting.”

“Sorry. Can't help you there,” John mumbled, scribbling out another signature.

He heard Dr. Zalenka grumbling in Czech, his irritation needing no translation. “What do I have to do? Draw them a picture?” 

“I'd suggest writing in really big letters, too,” John said. He handed the clipboard back to its bearer, a bored-looking Air Force Sergeant. John couldn't help but sympathize. This was hardly his favorite part of the job either. 

She wasn't one of his, he would've remembered. Probably part of the delivery team, he thought. Pretty. Maybe wound a little tight, but at one point in his life she would've definitely rated a second look, maybe some casual flirting. But the only thing he felt was a discernible lack of interest. “There you go.” 

She accepted the clipboard with a polite smile. “Thank you, sir.” 

“You're welcome.”  Nope. Nothing.

She disappeared into the crowd, headed in the direction of the pier, and he found it far too easy to go back to directing his little three-ring circus without giving her any further thought. 

John settled into a rhythm, losing himself in the constant drone of voices and flow of people, satisfied with just being numb. Crates containing new TAC vests, radios, replacement uniforms all passed inspection and were carried out. Loaded dollies fled the room in a steady stream, Mr. Woolsey coming down to do his part in clearing the clutter as well by overseeing the mess hall restock.

Finally down to the last few loads, John had just given Lt. Harris the go-ahead to take his assigned cargo when he keyed into a high-pitched squeal. He immediately reached out and took the marine by the shoulder. “Just hold it right there, Lieutenant.” Quick to obey orders, Harris ground the dolly back to a halt as John searched for the sound's owner. 

“Torren …” Out of sight, Teyla sounded a lot further away than the toddler, who giggled anxiously. John walked around the stack of boxes obstructing his view and saw TJ crawling straight into the path of where Harris would have been pulling out. 

“Whoa there, pal,” John said, cutting off the Torren's escape route and picking him up in a broad, playful swoop. John felt guilty when TJ stiffened. He hadn't meant to scare him. “It's okay, TJ. I got you,” he said, patting his back. 

To John's relief, after a moment of careful study, TJ realized who it was that had him and the toddler relaxed, nestling up against him and looping his tiny fingers up by his neck to play at the collar of his uniform.  After a quick wave to Lt. Harris indicating the coast was clear, John smiled and bounced him. “Yeah, you're alright, aren't you?”

TJ grinned in response.

“That's what I thought,” John said. 

From the very beginning, to John's surprise, it had been easy with TJ. Natural. Not even an hour old when Teyla had entrusted him with her son, John had nervously expected a lot of crying, but the newborn hadn't made a sound. Torren had looked up with his innocent, brown eyes, wrapped his fingers around John's, and just like that he was hooked. Fast friends, accepted without question. 

Tightening his grip slightly, John craned his head around. “Now, TJ, what have you done with your …” His breath caught in his throat. Like a specter directly from his dreams, Teyla was striding toward him. In her sparring outfit of all things, he thought, feeling the heat start to rise. 

Teyla was shaking her head. “Torren John Emmagen …” 

At his mother's voice, Torren leaped in his arms and let out a gleeful squeal. Catching on to the game, John chuckled. “She got ya, huh?” 

The toddler pointed a tiny finger. “Mum mum.” 

John looked at Teyla. Beautiful, utterly mesmerizing. And completely out of his reach. 

He quickly broke his gaze and answered, “Yeah, that's your mommy.”

“I am sorry, John,” she apologized as boxes rolled by behind him. “I was on my way to drop him off with Kanaan. Dr. Kusanagi stopped me for a moment to talk and when I went to pick him back up … ” She frowned at her son, but the love she had for him was evident. “Torren has discovered a new game recently. He has decided it is fun to run away from me. I hope he did not get in the way.”

“It's no problem, Teyla,” he said. “And there's nothing wrong with a good game of chase.”

“I just hope it does not become a habit. In my quarters, it is one thing, but it would hardly do to have him wandering all over the city.”

“Well, if he does, just remember there are plenty of people around here watching out for him,” he said.

Torren had found the chain surrounding John's neck and started tugging on his dogtags. Frustrated that they wouldn't come loose, he adopted a determined look and yanked harder. John chuckled and without thinking, began searching for Teyla's eyes again. He found her quietly smiling at him. At her son, too, but mostly at him. “Yes, Torren has many that would see to his well-being,” she said softly.

His heart sped up and he had to remind himself for the second time in as many minutes that she wasn't available, that the idyllic family portrait he'd just stumbled into wasn't reality. It was probably best that they'd be spending the next two weeks apart. He needed the time to get some distance and try to put his feelings behind him, an impossible task if he had to see her every day, smiling like that and knowing that the simple gesture meant far more to him than it did to her. 

While trying to recover, it occurred to him that he had no idea what her plans were for her time away. He supposed if he'd stuck around at dinner the other night, McKay probably would've ferreted it out for him, but since he hadn't … 

“So, um … any big plans for your vacation? TJ's probably a little young for Disneyland, but …” A groan ran through his head. He had no idea what he was saying. When had he graduated from pathetic and lovesick to drooling idiot? Maybe it was because he couldn't banish the memory of how he'd woken up this morning, the ghost of her supple lips dancing on his, the blissful, unspoken promise of so much more. 

“Tomorrow night, I will be in Washington D.C. attending the party thrown by General Hayden.”

“Hayden,” he echoed.  John had gotten an invite to that one himself. Just about all of the senior personnel on Atlantis had, but there were only a few he knew of that were planning on going. His invitation had been delivered by none other than Col. Samantha Carter. A few weeks ago, she'd contacted him while the Hammond was Earth-side. 

“On New Years Eve?” 

“It's not an official function, John. Attendance isn't mandatory. It's just a regular party that just happens to have some of the bigger brass on the guest list. I know Admiral Donnelly was hoping to get a chance to talk to some of the elusive command staff on Atlantis,” she'd tried to sell him. Meanwhile, in the background of her webcam, Gen. O'Neill was furiously waving and mouthing the word, “Run!”

John had tried not to tip her off, but Sam turned around and the next thing he knew, the General was towing the party line—unconvincingly, as he was shaking his head 'no' the entire time. “Absolutely, Sheppard. You should come.” 

Needless to say, he'd begged off the whole thing. 

“Well, Washington's got one of the best fireworks displays in the world and Gen. Hayden is pretty decent as far as brass go. He didn't sign off on my promotion, but he's never tried to court martial me, so that's a plus,” John said, realizing he was babbling, “And Carter will be there. I'm sure you and Kanaan will have a great time.” 

She paused. “Actually, Kanaan has made his own plans. He will be accompanying Maj. Lorne on his assigned leave.” 

She seemed to be intent on his reaction. A cracked “Really?” was all he could manage.

“Evan has generously offered to show him one of the more fantastic sites on your world for this time of year, a … Times Square? I believe that was what he called it.” 

“Kanaan's gonna be in New York City.” 

She nodded. “Then, I think they plan on doing some traveling. Kanaan is eager to see more of your world.” 

“So, you're going to Washington …” John hesitated to say it. “ … alone?” 

An anxious smile peeked out. “Not precisely. Torren will be coming with me. And I believe Mr. Woolsey also plans on attending.” 

Relief flooded through him in a rush, but he was still extremely uncertain as to what he was hearing. “Well, keep an eye on Woolsey. Make sure he doesn't party too hard. He'll never forgive himself if he pops a seam on that fancy three-piece suit of his.” 

He waited for the amused yet disapproving look she had so often bestowed on him before, but what he got threw his expectations for a loop. She wouldn't look at him at all.

“You will not be going, then,” she said quietly. 

“No, I … I have a flight out first thing in the morning. Dave … he's expecting me.” 

Every word seemed wrong.

“Of course. Your family must miss seeing you,” she picked herself up and smiled diplomatically. 

TJ had ceased pulling on his chains and was entertaining himself by running his dogtags up and down the length of it. Teyla grew quiet and watched her son at play. John tried to do the same, but he couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from her for more than a few seconds at a time. What was happening here? Why did she seem so …  

Disappointed.

John chewed his lower lip. Reading between the lines when it came to women was a skill he'd never perfected and it had gotten him into plenty of trouble in the past. What was she saying? Was she even saying anything? A couple taking separate vacations wasn't exactly unheard of. Had she and Kanaan broken up or were his feelings twisting his perceptions, turning them into a cruel mockery of the truth?

John reached for a stronger resolve. Teyla was his friend. No matter how he felt about her romantically, her friendship meant everything to him. If he crossed the line and she didn't feel the same way, they would never be able to go back and he would lose her. In _every_ sense. He couldn't risk that.

“I guess you … probably need to get going.” 

Her deep, burnished eyes met his. “Yes, I suppose I should. My class will be waiting for me.” 

John handed over Torren, the slight brush of her arms against his sending his traitorous body into overdrive. “There you go,” he mumbled, reining himself in.

“Thank you, John,” she said, softly.

His brow furrowed. “Are you okay?” 

She smiled. “I am fine.” 

She took TJ and walked away, but before she got far, she turned back around. “John?”

“Yeah?” he answered quickly. Too quickly. 

“I hope you have a wonderful trip.” 

He watched her go, his stomach churning. He let her walk away. He had to. Didn't he? He dipped his head and when he lifted it again, she was gone and John was left on edge.

He suddenly felt like he'd just made a terrible mistake.


	4. Chapter 4

“Have I mentioned yet how big he's gotten?” Sam asked.

“Many times.” Teyla peered into the pristine reflection of the bathroom mirror where she was putting the finishing touches on her make-up. Through the open doorway, already dressed for the party, Sam was playing Torren's dutiful assistant as he was attempting to stack his blocks on the bed.

“I can't help it, I guess. The last time I saw him, it was right after he was born,” Col. Carter said, placing another wooden cube in the boy's waiting hand. “He's just about ready for the engineering program at MIT, I think.”

“I believe it is still a few years before he begins his schooling,” Teyla said, smiling. “And I have it on good authority Dr. McKay already has designs of his own for Torren. Theoretical physics … and I think he also mentioned something about learning to play … the piano?”

Sam chuckled. “Just as long as Rodney isn't the one doing the teaching.”

Unlikely, Teyla thought with a smirk, reaching for the powder on the counter. She didn't think Rodney possessed the patience necessary to teach anyone at any age for long, let alone a small child, but that he had given thought to her son's future meant a great deal to her. He hadn't been the only one.

Ronon, in keeping with Satedan tradition, had already begun the initial stages of Torren's combat training. “If he's old enough to make a fist, he's old enough to hold a weapon,” he'd said one day when she had left her son under Ronon's watch. She'd returned to find Ronon carefully balling up Torren's tiny fingers and encouraging him to strike the flat of his palms. Teyla was reticent to start that part of her son's education so early. Athosian children typically did not begin physical training until age three, but given the threats to his life they had already encountered, she wanted her son to have every advantage available to him. And there was no one she trusted more than Ronon to teach him to survive.

_Of course, if Atlantis were to remain here and I with it, Torren may never find his life in jeopardy again_ , Teyla mused, glancing at her lavish surroundings. Everything around her—the balcony overlooking the enormous city and the President's own home, the size of the room allotted for Torren and her with its sitting room and two bedrooms, each with beds covered in the most lush fabrics she had ever felt, even the counter in front of her—made her acutely aware she was in a whole new world. This one hotel would put to shame any of the royal houses they had encountered in her home galaxy and it was only one of many. This was John's world, a place that had grown and thrived, free of the Wraith, where their young children could be children. Where John Sheppard's first thought had been that her son should learn to play baseball, not the most efficient ways to kill.

As her thoughts shifted back to John, Teyla closed her eyes and tried to will them away. When she had accepted the invitation to this occasion, it had been in part because Mr. Woolsey felt that it would be good for some of those with sway in the Stargate program to see a face from the Pegasus galaxy, a representative of sorts for all those they had helped and could help again if permitted to return. Ronon, perhaps fortuitously, had other plans, but Mr. Woolsey seemed to think her a perfect candidate with her background in diplomacy and natural poise. But she had also known that the others had been invited as well. A part of her hoped that John would come and make the evening … better. That away from the responsibilities of Atlantis and the burden of leadership he carried along on every mission, maybe they could have a real conversation, laugh, and enjoy each other's company a little like they used to. Before Kanaan. Before things had gotten so terribly complicated between them.

Teyla blamed herself. She had listened to Kanaan. He was so sure that John had feelings for her, deeper than that of one teammate for another, and she had allowed herself to hope. She should have known better. She should have known he would have been reluctant to attend. Formal functions were not an environment John had ever felt comfortable in and if she had not allowed her hopes to overrule sense, perhaps it would not have hurt so badly when he'd told her he was not coming.

Perhaps it was finally time to let go. After over five years working together, if John Sheppard had any romantic intentions toward her, he could have approached her long ago. For her own sake, she needed to distance herself from useless wishing and hopeless fantasy.

Ready to go, with the exception of her shoes which were sitting on the floor next to the bed, Teyla looked herself over. Hitting her at the knee, the black, one-shoulder dress had been Vala's choice for her during their shopping trip this afternoon, but Teyla had to admit, it was beautiful. Shimmering under the warm glow of the lights, it hugged her body in all the right places as though it had been made solely for her. Being able to wear such a fine garment helped to buoy her spirits. She could not have such splendor all around her and feel sorry for herself. She was getting the chance to renew her friendships with Col. Carter and the other members of SG-1, past and present, in a hotel so magnificent she could have only dreamed it. It would be foolish to waste this night grieving a relationship that never was.

A knock came at the door, drawing Teyla back into the present. It could only be one of two people. Vala Mal Doran or the woman hired by the SGC to watch Torren for the evening. Sam answered as she busied herself with the straps of her shoes, and Vala stepped into the room looking like a woman on the hunt. Though it was no animal she was after, Teyla surmised from the plunging neckline of her vibrant red dress. Her raven hair provided a tantalizing contrast, tumbling elegantly over her shoulders.

“Well, girls, what you think?”

Sam's eyes went wide. “Wow! That's really … wow!”

“I would have to agree with Colonel Carter,” Teyla said. “You look quite stunning.”

“You think so? Because fluffy handcuffs and a negligee didn't really have the desired effect. What's a girl got to do to get a little attention, I ask you?” Vala asked, so blatantly confident it only exposed the insecurities cleverly hidden underneath.

“In that dress, you're bound to get plenty,” Sam assured her.

Vala straightened one of her shoulder straps listing precariously to the side. “Good,” she said emphatically, “because I have no intention of missing out on another New Year's Eve kiss.”

Teyla's ears pricked at that. With every planet she visited, she tried to learn and be mindful of their customs, but on a world with such vast numbers and so many different cultures, it was difficult to keep up. And no one had mentioned anything about a New Year's Eve kiss.

“What happened last year?” Col. Carter asked.

The former thief rolled her eyes. “Mitchell decided that SG-12 getting taken hostage by a few angry villagers merited a 'speedy response'. Completely ruined the party. And I brought chips and everything.”

Teyla took her chance to ask. “There is a kiss?”

Vala grinned widely. “One of Earth's better traditions in my opinion. A stroke of genius, really. When the clock hits midnight, everybody kisses. Now, that's the way to properly start a new year.”

“Not everyone,” Sam qualified. “Most people kiss their dates, but it's a fairly open playing field. Friends, acquaintances … occasionally a complete stranger will catch you off guard at the punch bowl and the next thing you know …” Colonel Carter stopped suddenly. “Well, it's … kind of a long story.”

“One which you must share,” Teyla teased.

Vala echoed her sentiment. “Immediately.”

Her cheeks rapidly changing hue, Sam answered sheepishly, “Maybe later.” She tried to get back on the topic at hand. “It's not something you should feel obligated to do, Teyla. Only if you want to. It's really all in fun.”

She nodded. Compared to many societies, Teyla's people were generally open-minded when it came to such matters, leaving it to each person to abide by their own conscience without fear of judgment. But this was one Earth tradition she was likely to forgo. Ordinarily, a simple kiss would not have been an unpleasant prospect, but tonight Teyla's heart was not in it. The one person she would have wished to share that experience with, something so personal and rife with potential, would not be there. Anyone else she may have chosen would only have served as another stinging reminder of his absence.

Vala, however, seemed to harbor no such inhibitions. “I suppose if I can't get my Daniel to bite, Cameron's got a look about him. I think I could quite enjoy kissing him. It's a pity Muscles couldn't be here. I imagine he has quite a lot to offer a girl. Ishta certainly seems pleased.”

“I'm sure you'll find someone,” Sam said, snickering.

“Well, we can't all have a general on standby.” Vala curled her lips in playful consideration. She bent to draw Torren's attention from his building blocks. She'd happily played with him all afternoon as Teyla had been shown around town and he'd taken equal pleasure in playing with her dark tresses. The young boy's fingers awkwardly groped at her cheeks. “What about you, gorgeous? You'd give me a kiss, wouldn't you?”

Teyla gazed on proudly as her son nestled his forehead against hers.

Vala melted. “Now, that's the best kiss I could hope for all night. You've ruined me, my love.” She planted a big kiss on his ample cheek.

Moments later, another knock sounded and Sam ushered in a middle-aged woman bundled up in a gray overcoat. She removed the woolen cap from her bouncy curls and introduced herself as a Mrs. Howard, there to tend to Teyla's son. Though Mrs. Howard had been thoroughly vetted by security and had been a nanny for many of the Pentagon's key personnel over the years, it felt strange to be entrusting her son to someone she had never met. But the woman's pleasant and cheerful demeanor helped to put her more at ease.

“It has been quite a long day. I believe once Torren has eaten a good meal, it will not be long before he will sleep,” Teyla said, accepting her handbag from Sam. “And, of course, should you need anything, we will be just downstairs.”

“I'm sure we'll get along just fine, Ms. Emmagan.”

“I am sure you will,” Teyla said with a smile, before saying a quick goodnight to her young son.

 

* * *

 

Taking a small sip from her champagne glass, Teyla let her attention wander momentarily from the conversation. For a such a spacious room, it had an ambiance that was surprisingly warm and inviting. The rich woodwork glowed brilliantly in the mellow lighting, appearing as candlelight, but powered by electricity, Teyla noted. Many of the guests appeared to be enjoying themselves, talking, dancing, and laughing. Vala, for example, was being led around the dance floor by Dr. Jackson. Even though Daniel was being inordinately cautious about looking down, the subtle smile playing at his lips showed how fond he was of his dance partner. Perhaps Vala will get that kiss, after all, she thought wistfully.

Another scan of the room showed that still others seemed to be spending their time engrossed in more serious conversation like she and the rest of her companions had been for the last while.

“The Pegasus galaxy certainly has a lot more to offer than the Wraith. We haven't even begun to scratch the surface of what the Ancients may have left behind. And the Asgard were a powerful ally that unfortunately has been lost in this galaxy.”

Teyla glanced back. She was impressed with the impassioned way Mr. Woolsey maintained his position. There was a time when she thought Mr. Woolsey would have welcomed being back on his homeworld, but he seemed to be one of their staunchest advocates for returning. He took every opportunity to bend the ear of those he thought might help their cause and the New Year's Eve party was no exception. Their host for the evening, Gen. George Hayden, was stout and experienced. It was apparent that he was satisfied with Atlantis' current position in Earth's Pacific Ocean and the additional arms they brought to the war against the Lucian Alliance, but he also seemed open to hearing Mr. Woolsey out.

“It's my understanding that the Asgard you encountered in Pegasus were less than friendly.”

Teyla spoke up. Often in negotiating, the most important conversations were the ones held away from the bargaining table and she was intent on doing her part. “We did encounter certain difficulties, but it was also equally clear that we share a common goal. Their primary concern was bringing about an end to the Wraith threat.”

“I'm not saying there wouldn't be a few bumps in the road,” Mr. Woolsey continued, “but if Atlantis were permitted to return to Pegasus, we could work on establishing a mutually beneficial relationship not unlike the one we enjoyed with the Milky Way Asgard.”

A server came by offering the group an assortment of food off a large silver platter and they helped themselves. Gen. O'Neill seemed to take a particular interest in the small bite-sized balls on the right, taking for himself a handful before the young man stepped away again.

General Hayden sampled a few items, considering Mr. Woolsey's proposal. “When Thor and his people were destroyed, we received the entire wealth of their culture and technology. You believe this offshoot tribe has something of equal value to offer?”

“What little of it I've seen, it's clear that in the thousands of years apart from the rest of their people, the Asgard's technological capabilities have diverged quite a bit,” Colonel Carter said. “Who knows what they may have developed that we've never seen before?”

“Hmm,” Gen. Hayden said. “Interesting.”

“You know what's really interesting?” General O'Neill spoke up. He held out one of the tiny brown nuggets. “These little things are fried and stuffed with cheese and marinara. It's pizza in ball form, but somehow, it still gets a pretentious name like 'arancini' and goes for six bucks a pop.” He blithely tossed it into his mouth as Gen. Hayden's lips thinned to almost nothing. “Nice party, George.”

“Jack.”

Vala and Daniel rejoined the group as a mannered chorus of giggles broke out. “Indeed, it is,” Vala said in her gregarious manner, “and there is far too much shop talk going on for any one of you to enjoy it. Mr. Woolsey, you're quite the naughty boy, keeping Teyla busy while there's fun to be had.”

“Ms. Mal Doran, I assure you …”

“I hope you've at least had the decency to make a few suggestive remarks to liven up the conversation a little. You have such a vivid imagination as I recall. Scandalous, really. It never would have occurred to me that leather could be so delicately employed. I'm telling you, it's always the quiet ones.”

Richard was speechless, his jaw having dropped precipitously.

“No? Pity.”

Sam turned her face away, but Teyla could see her shoulders starting to shake. Mitchell was biting his lip and Daniel had simply closed his eyes in exasperation. But for Teyla, the struggle not to laugh was almost insurmountable.

“C'mon, Teyla. We can leave them to it for a little while,” Col. Mitchell said, extending his hand in a gallant effort to save her from herself. He tilted his head in the direction Daniel and Vala had just come from. “What do you say?”

Teyla accepted it gratefully. “I'd be delighted, Colonel.”

Mr. Woolsey straightened, bravely trying to iron out the wrinkles in his dignity. “Absolutely, Teyla. I wouldn't want to keep you from … all the fun.”

Taking her by the hand, Col. Mitchell cut a careful path through the crowd and let loose the smirk he'd been suppressing. “I take it you've never seen Vala scramble Woolsey's eggs like that?”

She smiled, remembering the stunned look on Mr. Woolsey's face. “I have not. I have yet to meet anyone who could manage to do such a thorough job of it.” Teyla slid deftly past Admiral Donnelly and his wife.

“That's our Vala. She's got a talent and she seems intent on using it. But … ” he shook his head, “ … as much as I hate to encourage her, she does come in awfully handy at times. I can't imagine a worse way to spend New Year's Eve than talking politics.”

Col. Mitchell guided her onto the dance floor. Teyla glanced at him uncertainly when she realized she had no idea what to do with her hands. Seeing her dilemma, he helped her with casual ease, placing one on his shoulder and tucking the other in his.

“There we go,” he said, sliding his free hand to rest on her waist. They soon settled into a relaxed sway and with no particular steps to learn, it was easy for Teyla to follow his lead and begin to really enjoy the party.

“Mr. Woolsey means well,” she commented, picking up where they'd left off.

“And if anybody knows how to play the game and get Atlantis back where she belongs, it's him, but it ain't gonna happen all in one night. There's still a lot of wheels to grease and ass to kiss before this thing is settled.” He offered her a smile in mute apology. “All in all, it's a pretty crappy way to spend your first New Year's Eve on Earth.”

Teyla peered around at their luxurious surroundings. “I can think of many things that would be worse, Colonel.”

“Cam,” he gently corrected. “And, of course, you're right. I suppose I'm just sorry Shep and the others couldn't make it. I'm pretty sure they would've shown you how to properly do New Year's.”

Teyla kept her face a picture of serenity, but the mere mention of John's name was enough to throw off her composed center and send her heart plummeting. “I suppose it's simply a case of bad timing. They have not had the chance to visit their families in quite some time.”

Mitchell's expression grew sour. “Don't you worry, Teyla. One way or another, we'll get you back to your people. If there's one thing us Kansas boys know, it's that there's no place like home.”

She studied the taller man, his comments taking a few seconds to make sense. He must have seen some spark of the sadness creeping in behind her carefully composed mask and assumed her distress was from being separated from her people. She smiled and squeezed his shoulder. His words had been kind and sincerely given, and she was in no hurry to correct him.

“That is from 'The Wizard of Oz', is it not?”

“Judy Garland, 1939. It's a classic,” he said. “I see Sheppard hasn't been remiss in educating you on the essentials.”

“Not at all.” Another elusive twinge stabbing her chest, she tried to change the subject. “Tell me about Kansas. Is your home much like the movie?”

Cam's eyebrows wrinkled thoughtfully. “Pretty close. Obviously, a few things have been updated since then, but it's quiet. There's a lot of space, and you can't swing a dead cat without hitting a cornfield.”

“I am sorry … I do not understand,” she replied, confused. She understood the penchant for colorful metaphors on this world and had heard many, but this one was new to her.

He shook his head. “Sorry. I just meant there's a lot of corn.”

“Ah, I see.”

“Yeah. My parents have a decent spread down in a little town called Auburn.”

Teyla caught him scanning the room. A finely dressed older gentlemen raised a glass in their direction. Cameron nodded politely in response, but she could tell he wasn't happy. No more than John would have been had he come. “Would you not have been happier spending your holiday with your family?”

He exhaled. “Well, my team and I didn't exactly get the same invite that you did. The way General Landry presented this party to me was as 'not mandatory, but less than optional'.”

“It seems rather a strange way to put it.”

“Either way, mission accomplished. We're here, putting our best faces forward for the bigwigs,” he said. “Or trying to, anyway.” He threw a look over his shoulder in the direction of his team. “I guess at the end of the day, whether it's over a case of beer or a glass of champagne, it isn't so much about where we are, just that we're together, you know? I'd probably go just about anywhere if it meant spending time with the people I care about.” He shook his head in chagrin. “Even if that means, this year, I get to spend it hobnobbing with a few other people I'd rather not.”

Teyla smiled and she and Cameron continued to sway along to the music. She listened to the octet of musicians masterfully manipulating their instruments to stir the soul and leave all else behind. In the fluid rhythm, Teyla tried to wash away the room full of people, most of whom she did not know, and tried to drown out the wish resonating within.

She wished the hands that held her were larger, more familiar, and the features staring back at her belonged to someone else. She wished the blue eyes that occasionally lowered to catch hers were a different shade. Greener, darker. Framed by those understated lines she knew so well and an ungovernable head of nearly black hair, laced with a few distinguished and well-earned strands of gray at the temples. She knew it was futile, but she wished Cam's last words had come from a different voice, different lips. So full and enticing. So perfect.

She wished John was here.

 

* * *

 

A few hours later, Teyla found herself watching the clock more than anything else. Strategically placed high in the center of the room, the ornate gold timepiece ticked away the minutes while the guests went on with their celebration beneath.

10:00.

10:14.

10:18.

10:29.

The night hadn't been so bad. Dinner had been delicious and the conversation lively. Teyla listened attentively as her companions reminisced over their past exploits. She'd especially enjoyed when they spoke of becoming accidental hostage-takers and General O'Neill's strong desire to be invisible again, if only so he could leave the party without his colleagues taking notice. But Cam's account of a great aerial battle fought over Antarctica only served to remind her yet again of John. He often spoke of his duty assignment there. He seemed almost fond of it, but to her amusement, she had noticed a long time ago that his nostalgia for the isolated, icebound land was exponentially greater when Rodney was on one of his tirades.

Teyla shied away from the memories, but no matter what she did, they kept on coming, latching onto any oblique reference or action that would send her spiraling right back to the one place she didn't want to be. She was fighting a war with her own heart and had no hope of victory.

Not tonight, at least. Maybe with time she would prevail.

So she watched the clock.

10:36.

It was at 10:49 Teyla decided she needed a few moments to herself if she was going to make it through to midnight. She would have preferred to call it a night then, but she still felt a sense of duty as one of the few in attendance representing Atlantis to be there.

Though the dishes had been cleared quite some time ago, their little group had made themselves comfortable at the dining table. Across from her, Gen. O'Neill and Col. Carter were enjoying their own quiet moment, looking over their shoulders toward the band, silently listening to the music. Teyla glanced down. Sam's fingers lazily stroked along the top of Jack's hand and despite how pleased she'd been to hear that the couple had been recently wed, she found she couldn't watch for long.

Teyla rose from her seat. “If you will excuse me, General. Colonel. I believe I'm just going to run upstairs for a few minutes. I would just like to make sure Torren went down alright.”

Sam's brow wrinkled. “I'm sure he's fine, Teyla.”

“Oh, let her go. At least, she has an excuse to bolt for a while,” Jack commented. “What I wouldn't give for a good old fashioned alien invasion about now.” He looked up at Teyla hopefully. “Think you could scare one of those up while you're at it?”

She smiled. She may not have known him well, but Teyla had a great appreciation for the general's dry sense of humor. “I will see what I can do.”

Once past the security guards monitoring the doors, Teyla was free. She took a deep, cleansing breath, only now recognizing how stifling the air in the huge ballroom had become. Her skin actually felt quite warm under her snug black dress. She stayed there for a few moments, fanning herself and savoring the cool sensation floating over her. This was all she needed to set her mind right. A few minutes with her son and a dash of fresh air.

It was a short walk down the hallway to the main lobby and the short stairway leading to the elevator. Though it was a large hotel with several holiday parties going on simultaneously, along the way, she only met a few people, no doubt doing the same thing as she. Taking a break from the festivities to get their bearings. One young woman clung to her male companion, appearing to have had too much to drink. Another small group in front of her, laughing and swaying to the music in their heads, seemed intent on leaving the hotel to join those celebrating in the streets. Teyla kept her course, walking along behind the revelers.

When she reached the lobby, the four party goers made for the entrance while she continued across. She soon lost sight of them. A pair of thick columns broke up her field of vision, lining the way to the stairs. Partially obstructed, the young woman manning the reception desk glanced up from her computer screen and granted her a friendly smile. It was another few seconds before Teyla passed one of the columns and realized that she was speaking with someone.

She stopped in her tracks. With a large garment bag slung over his shoulder, he was reaching into his rear pocket.

“And the name, sir?” the young woman asked the man standing across from her.

Even though she couldn't see his face, Teyla already knew. She would have known it was him in the blackest of nights or if they had been swept up in a sea of people. She had every line, contour, and chiseled plane of his body memorized, but her heart did not need her eyes to see and the sweet sound of his voice sent it racing.

“Sheppard. Colonel John Sheppard.”


	5. Chapter 5

Without thinking, John set his ID and credit card atop the reception desk. The concierge was quick about her job, asking the standard questions and getting all the standard answers. Anxious, he flicked his wrist to check his watch as he had been all day, the hours and minutes painfully ticking by, the crestfallen look in Teyla's eyes reflecting back at him in the glass.

He still had no idea what he was going to do when he saw her or what he would say. John wasn't even sure if he'd come there as a friend or if he was ready to take the leap and tell her the truth. He only knew one thing for certain. He’d never be able to live with himself knowing he'd disappointed her.

John had accepted a long time ago that to some people a disappointment was all he would ever be, but Teyla was different. Her opinion meant everything. If she wanted him there, he'd be there. Even if she was still with Kanaan and nothing came of tonight other than two friends reconnecting, then the hurried trip across the country was worth it.

“I called earlier to make sure …”

The woman—Jillian, according to her nametag—stopped him courteously, looking up from her computer screen. “We have your reservation, Colonel. You're listed on the fourth floor along with the rest of General Hayden's guests. Suite 416. And,” She handed his card back to him, “all expenses have been covered, sir.”

He gave her a brief nod of acknowledgment as he replaced his items in his wallet. At least something was going right today.

“Can I have your bags taken upstairs for you?”

“I got it, thanks.” With just a suit and the duffel resting at his feet, Sheppard didn't need any help. He just needed to get moving.

Reaching beneath his leather coat, he was slipping his wallet back into the pocket of his jeans when something inside him told him to turn around. Whether by instinct or military training, John had that feeling he was being watched, but a seed planted far deeper, something familiar and undeniable, told him it was her. He didn't know how, but he knew, and a quarter turn to the right was all it took.

A statue of feminine perfection, John was magnetically drawn to the elegant lines of her figure. Her usual leather cast aside, Teyla looked equally at home in the scintillating black gown, her exquisite musculature sleek and refined, and showing just enough skin to tease his imagination. Not that his imagination needed much help in that department.

“Teyla.” A half-formed sideways smile was the best he could muster. Of course, he'd known this moment was coming, but he still felt like a deer in headlights, frozen under her spell. “You, uh … you wouldn't believe how hard it is to switch around a flight at the last minute on a holiday.”

That's great, John. Smooth.

“Colonel?” the concierge called.

He slowly pivoted back to the desk, taking the momentary reprieve to gather himself.

“Your room key and security pass.” He palmed the two cards as Jillian pointed toward the short staircase. Hearing the click of heels on the tile floor, John looked back at Teyla and his heart quickened as she eased up beside him. “The elevator is at the top of the stairs and your party is at the end of the corridor on the left. The Adams-Forester Room.”

“I will make certain he finds it,” Teyla said politely.

With business taken care of, he figured this was it. She was so close, so smart and beautiful, everything he could ever want. He felt like he was standing on the edge of a cliff. She had to know why he'd come. How many possible reasons could he have had for changing all his plans and flying across the country?

Noting she had been heading in the opposite direction of the ballroom, he asked, “Did I, uh, miss the party?”

Several loaded seconds passed in tense stalemate, her soft features inscrutable. Then, without sound or fanfare, she stepped in and wrapped her arms around him. Stunned, relieved, thrilled, he let the garment bag carrying his suit slide to the floor, freeing both his hands for far better things.

“I thought you had gone to visit your brother and his family,” she said over his shoulder, sounding almost as nervous as he felt.

“Something came up.” John angled his head inward, just far enough to catch a whiff of perfume and the tickle of her silken hair against his cheek. “Surprised?”

He barely heard her hushed response. “Very.”

Definitely worth it.

His nerves instantly settled. He was where he was supposed to be. With Teyla, for better or worse. He could do this. If she was honestly happy with Kanaan, he would learn to live with it for her sake, but he couldn't just walk away without knowing. She was far too special to let go without a fight.

She gradually released him, tucking a displaced strand of hair behind her ear as she moved away, and motioned toward the short series of steps. “I was just on my way to check on Torren.”

“Is he okay? Did he get sick or …”

“He is fine,” she said. “I am sure he is. I was merely …”

John cracked a crooked smile. It looked like he got here in the nick of time. “Making a strategic retreat?”

Teyla's bearing didn't waver an inch.

“Using your son as an excuse is clever. Resourceful. But you are definitely a woman on the run,” he teased.

“I believe you are mistaking me for someone else, John.”

He cocked his brow at the pointed jab. “Big, tattooed, and hairy?” The opportunity to appraise her body before him, John looked her up and down. “Nope, there's no mistake.”

Surprisingly, Teyla didn't shrink from his bold scrutiny. “Does it please you?”

“What?” he asked, realizing belatedly that he'd – maybe – been a little too appreciative of the view.

A coy smile played at her lips. “You seem pleased with my … attire.”

“What's not to like?” spilled out and John immediately quelled the urge to cringe. It was too casual, too cavalier. He was always making light of his feelings and shoving them into the background, but he wasn't some shy, teenage kid with no notion of what it really meant to love someone. That wasn't why he was here. He could do better.

John regarded her intently. “You look … incredible, Teyla. Really.”

Her dark eyes grabbed onto his as a subtle smile crossed her face. “I am glad you like it.”

Swimming in all the possibilities of subtext, it took Sheppard more than a few seconds to pull together his wits long enough to bend over and retrieve his bags. Teyla led at first, but he soon fell into step right beside her as they began walking across the lobby.

“So has the party been a bust?” he started again. “It's Woolsey, isn't it? He's been talking Hayden's ear off all night and forcing you to be the world's most boring wingman.”

“I believed you were supportive of his efforts.”

“Ordinarily, yes. Absolutely. But if it's gotten to the point he's driving you crazy, maybe he needs a little reminder that there is such a thing as fun. You're supposed to be enjoying your R&R, not wrangling the military brass.”

They started up the stairs.

“Then, I suppose you will be happy to hear that he received that particular message a few hours ago.”

“He did, huh?”

“It seems Col. Mitchell and some of the other members of SG-1 were of a similar mindset, and Vala was more than willing to take on the responsibility of informing him.”

John smirked. “Sorry I missed that.”

Having reached the elevator, Teyla pressed the call button. “But to answer your question, no. It has been a most interesting experience. I merely found myself …” She paused. “… in need of some space.”

The elevator dinged and the doors parted. Once they were inside, she stretched across him to hit the button for the fourth floor. He tried to move back and give her enough room to maneuver, but he forgot to account for the added bulk of his bags and she wound up skimming up against him, her face to his. Another storm of electricity surged through him, but this time he could have sworn she felt it, too. The safe distance they usually kept dissolved to a few inches. And for someone who'd just said she needed space, Teyla didn't appear to be in much of a hurry to find some.

The elevator doors slid shut behind her, jogging his mind loose from the hypnotic state he'd fallen prey to. Reluctantly, John exhaled and took a step backward. “Sorry about that.”

Through ragged breaths, Teyla shook off his apology with a demure, “It is perfectly fine, John.”

There was an awkward pause as they both stared straight ahead. It was Teyla who finally broke the silence. “If I may … what was it that changed your mind?”

John took a long look at her, his mouth suddenly feeling very dry. “After we talked … and you told me you were coming here alone, I thought …”

“Yes?”

God. He even found it adorable the way her forehead wrinkled up when she asked a question. “I thought you might … need a date.”

To John's delight, a smile began to appear, hesitant at first, but it soon became one to chase away the shades of all others, encouraging him to go on.

“I know I'm probably not the best candidate in the world considering I nearly stood you up. And I'd need about ten minutes or so to get cleaned up and changed, but if you want …” His throat started to close up. He quickly wet his lips.

Remember what you thought about not being a teenage kid? Well, forget it.

He was so out of practice at this.

“That would give me enough time to check in with Mrs. Howard and make sure Torren isn't in need of anything,” she said, clearly taken with his offer.

“I could pick you up before we head back down,” he suggested with a hopeful air.

Teyla smiled. “That would be lovely, John. I would be honored if you would be my escort for the rest of the evening.”

“Great,” he smiled, turning back to distractedly studying the panel of buttons before him. “That's great.”

Okay, Romeo. Now what?

 

* * *

 

Flashing his security pass for the guards at the door, John followed Teyla inside. Walking into the large, crowded ballroom was a little like taking a stroll into his past. He'd actually been to this very hotel before, in a different ballroom, on another floor, and in a completely different lifetime. One where he wasn't yet John Sheppard, military commander of Atlantis base, but a young Air Force pilot occasionally forced into playing an unwilling and inadequate representative of the Sheppard family name. It was kind of unnerving.

John started fiddling with his tie. For some reason, he couldn't get it to lay right.

“Here. Allow me.” Hemmed into a corner by all the people, Teyla stepped in and went to work on his top knot.

Trying not to focus too hard on what she doing, John surveyed the room, but he inevitably kept dropping his focus to the delicate flip of her hair and the nimble motion of her hands. He didn't want to make her uncomfortable, but he was already there, and she was by far the best, most distracting thing in the room. It was so easy to lose himself in her and let the rest fade into background noise.

Teyla glanced up from her work and caught him studying her. Again. “So what do you think? Is it terminal, Doc?” he joked.

She smiled and shifted her eyeline back to his tie. “I believe it—and you—will survive. Though, how you managed to tie such a strange knot I will never know.”

“Comes with showering and getting dressed in a hurry, I guess,” he said, sheepishly. “I never did like these things.”

Teyla gave him a sympathetic smile. “I think I can fix it readily enough, if you would not mind holding still.”

“Sure.”

They fell silent, John relishing her presence, maneuvering over him with a familiarity that felt both old and new simultaneously. Their relationship had been so strained for so long, it was wonderful to simply to be able to be together, talking and laughing, but there was something different about it, too. Deeper. Almost intimate. It might have been wishful thinking, but he thought she might be enjoying the nearness as much as he was. There was a brilliant luminescence to her that he'd never noticed before.

“There,” she declared, pulling the knot tight again and smoothing his collar for him. “I believe that will do.”

He reached up to test it for himself. “Nice. Have you done this before?”

“I have been called to assist Rodney on a few occasions. Early in his courtship with Jennifer, I believe his nerves had a rather catastrophic effect on his coordination.”

“Yeah? Well, dating's been known to do that to people.”

Teyla tipped her head, curiously. “I have never noticed such an effect on you, John.”

Just watch.

He motioned toward the round table where their friends were seated. “What do you say we, um …”

“Of course.” Then, Teyla reached for his hand. He looked down at her fingers laced through his—comfortable and seamless—in elated awe. “For your coordination. We are on a date, after all,” she said, mischief rife in her composed demeanor.

It happened to him every time. Just when John thought she couldn't possibly get more beautiful, she never failed to surprise him. He fell into step beside her, hanging on tight.

“Col. Sheppard?”

At the table, John could see that conversation was moving along at full steam, some of them nibbling on desserts as they chatted, their champagne glasses all at varying degrees of fullness. But they had caught Dr. Jackson's attention and soon the rest chimed in.

“John?” Sam said. Next to her, Gen. O'Neill rolled his eyes.

Col. Mitchell echoed, “Sheppard?”

Daniel stood up and shook his hand, while Vala helped herself to a hug. John grudgingly released Teyla's hand. “It's about time, darling.”

Jack rose and sternly addressed his date. “I send you out for aliens and you bring me back another one of these? I've already got more colonels around here than I can shake a stick at.”

Cameron and Carter exchanged an impassive look. Mitchell shrugged, accepting his guilt, while Teyla met his feigned accusation with equal mirth. “I apologize, General. It was all I could do on such short notice.”

“Hmm.” His hands stuffed lazily in his pockets, Jack turned to John. “Well, Sheppard, it's good to know you haven't let that full-bird go to your head. I see you still can't follow simple instructions.”

“Call me a work in progress, sir,” John said. What else could he say? It was hardly the first time he'd ignored friendly advice.

“Nah, it was probably my fault. Too subtle?”

“I wouldn't exactly say that, sir.”

“I'll work on it.”

John's straight face cracked. “Yes, sir.”

Gen. O'Neill stretched out his hand and John accepted it gladly. “Wish I could say you've missed a helluva party, Sheppard, but …”

“It's good to see you, too, General.” He inclined an affectionate nod to Sam. “Colonel.”

“Anyway, I figured you might pull a stunt like this,” Jack continued. “Probably a good thing I mentioned to George that he may want to keep you on his guest list. Just in case.”

John's eyes widened. That explained a few things. He supposed he was finally reaping the benefits of his longstanding reputation for unpredictability. “Yes, sir.”

Mitchell peered up at the large clock in the center of the room and gestured to a pair of unoccupied seats. “You cut it pretty close, Shep. Why don't you sit down and take a load off?”

John glanced over to Teyla, who was regarding him with a question in her eyes. He couldn't deny it would be nice to catch up with his friends without having to strap on a P-90 and save the galaxy first, but he had other priorities tonight.

“Actually, I've been cooling my heels at the airport all day, so I was kind of hoping to stretch my legs a bit.” He looked to Teyla, his tone soft and inviting. “You wouldn't want to dance, would you?”

“I would love to,” she replied, beaming. Teyla turned to the rest of them. “You wouldn't mind excusing us, would you?”

“Of course not,” Sam said.

“You didn't think we thought you'd come all this way just to talk to us, did you?” O'Neill said innocently.

Daniel smirked. “You two have fun.”

John's hand found home in the smallest curve of Teyla's back. A shot of euphoria raced through his veins hearing a stifled gasp as he gently pressed her forward.

Soon, they reached the dance floor and he brought her body into perfect alignment with his own. His breath caught momentarily seeing the starry look in her eyes when he took her hand. He hoped it wasn't his imagination, but she seemed to want this as much as he did.

“I see you've done this before, too,” he said with an inappreciable nod to her hand positioned on his shoulder.

“Col. Mitchell showed me earlier.”

His brow raised. “He did, did he?” John gave his whole attention to the floor.

“What are you doing, John?”

“Just checking your feet for bruises.” Teyla shot him withering look to which he smiled playfully. “What? Judging from his performance at my post-promotion bash, Mitchell's amateur ballroom title is safely sitting over someone else's fireplace.”

“Do you claim to know better?” she challenged.

An unexpected heat built within his blood. “I think I can come up with something.”

He pulled her in more securely and began talking her through a three-beat pattern. He moved slowly for her benefit, only at half speed to allow her time to get a feel for it.

“It seems simple enough,” she said, once she had mastered the basic movements.

John smiled and brought them back up to tempo with the strings playing in the background. “I saw you dancing at the last Tendol Feast. Trust me. This is nothing.”

“I am surprised you can even remember that night,” Teyla said. “As I recall, you and Rodney both enjoyed your fair share of the Ruus wine.”

John tilted his head and made a noncommittal noise. “If we're being fair, it was mostly Rodney. Nothing quite sobers you up as fast as a drunk McKay telling you he loves you.”

Teyla's eyebrows shot up. In all the not talking they'd done lately, he must've forgotten to mention that part.

“Strictly in a guy-to-guy way,” he qualified. “But I figured someone had to be able to see straight enough to get him to his tent when he finally keeled over.”

“He did seem unusually … affectionate … that night. I remember being on the receiving end of a rather exuberant hug.”

“I tried to stop him,” he assured her.

“I also believe he kissed Neesa.”

John couldn't help himself. He had to laugh. “I'm sorry. I didn't know.”

“I am glad you find it so amusing. She spent the rest of the evening trying to convince her husband that her affections still belonged with him,” she said.

“I assume they were able to work it out? We can't have it getting back to McKay that he was responsible for the breakup of a marriage. His ego's big enough as it is.”

Teyla let a grin peek out. “Yes, they did.”

“Good.” He reached around her waist, manipulating her body nearer to his. He bit his lower lip. “You ready for this?”

In a smooth motion, John raised her arm and Teyla willingly followed, spinning in a graceful whirl, and returning back to her rightful place in his arms.

Everything in his life lately always seemed to come back to her, he thought. To him she was home.

Instead of resuming their former, more formal stance, this time John brought her in closer, casually resting their coupled hands against his chest. He drew in a sharp breath, feeling her adjust the hand on his shoulder to lay against the line of his neck. She had no idea the things she did to him with the most basic touch.

“I also asked you to join those of us around the bonfire. You claimed you did not dance,” she reminded him in a sweet, almost musical tone.

“I can't. Not like that, anyway. Besides, I figured I had the better vantage point where I was.”

“You were watching me,” she murmured, not asking a question.

An unbidden look, raw and vulnerable, escaped and John knew she had her answer. It wasn't what he'd intended, but John didn't waffle and try to explain it away. He didn't want her wondering whether he'd come in service of a friend or in search of something more. He didn't want to keep his feelings under lock and key anymore, but he also had to remind himself not to get ahead of things.

“So what happens tomorrow when all this is over?” he asked. It didn't occur to him until after it came out what a loaded question that was.

“General O'Neill has generously offered me the use of his cabin in Colorado as he is to remain in Washington for the time being, but I think I would prefer to return to Atlantis.”

“Atlantis?” he asked, incredulous. That was the last thing he expected to hear.

“It is my home, after all, whether I am on duty or not and it will be nice to be able to spend more of my time with Torren,” she said. Teyla's fingers brushed along the hair at the base of his neck, sending chills down his spine, calling his body to attention. “It is probably the prudent choice, in any case. I need to move Torren's things from my bedroom, now that Kanaan has moved out of the spare room and into his own quarters. It will be good for him to have the extra space.”

John picked up his head, searching her, trying to be sure he'd heard what he heard. “He moved out?”

Teyla lips fell open slightly in sincere surprise. “You were not aware?” “No.” Teyla began mumbling to herself, not at all like her. “… measure of privacy for Kanaan, but I was certain word of our situation had spread all around the base.”

“Teyla, what are talking about?”

“Kanaan has been staying in my quarters so I could assist him in his recovery and to enable him to spend time with Torren while he was so young. But … Torren is older now and Kanaan has been able to heal sufficiently. He no longer needs my help.”

John blinked. His heart was racing in his chest. “So he's not …”

Teyla ran her hand down the lapel of his coat and captured his eyes. “John, Kanaan is my friend and Torren's father. Nothing more. He has not been in quite some time.”

John stiffened, torn apart in a deluge of thought. Scarcely able to believe what she was telling him, he was at the same time thrilled she wasn't as far from his reach as he'd assumed, baffled at how it was possible he hadn't known this sooner, and angry with himself because it was entirely his fault he hadn't.

“You know, you don't owe me any explanations, Teyla. If you don't want to talk about it …”

“I am not saying this because I have to, John. I want to.”

Following a slow and hesitant nod, he said, “Okay. What happened?”

Teyla released a heavy sigh, trying to shore up her courage. “We tried in the beginning. For a few months after his rescue, we attempted to make it work, to pick up where we left off. But it was more for Torren's sake than our own. His change, the things he was compelled to do under Michael's influence, affected Kanaan greatly. Even with the assistance of Dr. Hiller, it was clear it would take him a long time to find his feet again and I …” She played apprehensively along the fabric of his suit, while he fought the urge to take her hand and put it to his lips. “I found that I was no longer open to the idea.”

“You didn't want to be with him anymore?”

“It is … complicated. But no. I did not.”

John gulped. He'd seen that pleading expression in her face before, begging him to understand.

“Kanaan has been a friend since before either of us was old enough to recall. He is a part of some of my earliest memories and we have always been close. Even now, we remain so. The gift we share has always afforded us a certain kinship that is … difficult … for others to comprehend.” Teyla paused under pressing weight of the past. “After we lost Carson and Dr. Weir, I was …”

“I remember.” He had been at her bedside and with her through the memorials. She had been far stronger than anyone expected of her, but he could tell that inside, she was devastated.

She looked up at him, sadly. “I needed someone.”

There was a sudden flash of anguish and regret in his face, and Teyla saw it. He could tell the last thing she wanted was to hurt him, but sometimes the truth hurt.

It had been a rough couple of months. They'd also lost Dr. Heightmeyer and, deeply immersed in his own sense of guilt and grief, only once did he allow himself the privilege of taking comfort in Teyla and to comfort her in return. He threw himself head first into his job and even engaged in a flirtation with Larrin. Anything to lessen the pain and make him feel alive again. It was stupid. She was admittedly an exciting woman, but he could never have trusted her in a million years, unlike Teyla, whom he trusted implicitly. With his life and—despite his record breaking slowness to realize it—his heart. He could've been the one Teyla turned to, but he hadn't been ready to open up to her at the time. So she went with the only one who would. Kanaan.

John was determined he would never make that mistake again.

Teyla's eyes began glisten in the weighty silence. “Kanaan is a good man, John, but he would not have been my choice had I thought for a moment …”

Hating to hear her so troubled, John pressed his forehead to hers, his dark hair spilling into her honeyed hues. His arms banded around her partially exposed back and pulled her in close. She moved with him without hesitation, almost reading his mind. Teyla draped her arms fully around his neck and they rocked easily together to music they'd long ago ceased listening to.

“We can't change the past, Teyla.”

“No, we cannot.” She reached up to stroke his cheek with careful sweeps of her thumb, stealing John's ability to breathe, to think. He had no idea it was possible to love another person so much.

Maybe instead of changing the past, they could change their future.

John could've danced all night if she wanted to, locked together in this moment forever. In a way, they had been dancing for years, but it was as though someone had flipped a switch and suddenly the lights overhead were on. The timing was right. They were both free, finally in sync, moving to the same rhythm and along the same path. Their complicated past had become no more than a shadow in the corner of a room. They had both made choices, hard ones, but those same choices had also led them here.

“It was worth it, Teyla,” he eventually said, his voice rough. “You have TJ.”

Teyla raised her eyes and smiled. “That is very true. There are things I may regret about the past, but he could never be one of them. I would not trade Torren for anything.”

John met her loving gaze. “Neither would I.”

They stayed together on the dance floor barely aware of the passage of time, moving through each song in slow motion. But, at some point, John realized that the crowd was thinning and he pulled away just long enough to get the lay of the land. The outer doors had been opened, letting in a chilled breeze, and people were beginning to make their way to the garden alcoves outside.

“What is it?” Teyla asked.

“Fireworks.” A quick check of the time said it was 11:45. “People are jockeying for the best spots.”

“I see.”

Spaces were filling up fast, but John couldn't find within himself to care. He was afraid if he moved away from Teyla even for a second, the blissful spell he'd been under would vanish. Even so, he still said, “We should probably get out there. You don't want to miss it.”

Teyla, however, wasn't any more inclined to join the growing throng outside than he was. It was too crowded and confined. Of course, he thought as he drank in the sight of the exquisite woman in his arms, any number of people would have seemed like too many. All he wanted was to be alone with her.

“I have an idea,” he said, watching Mitchell pass by to take his place. Richard Woolsey went too, followed by Jackson and Vala, who looked like she'd been making the most of the party. He was almost sorry he hadn't been able to spend more of it with them. Almost.

“What is it?”

“C'mon. I'll show you.”

John led Teyla by the hand toward the exit. They passed by Sam and Jack, who sent them off with nothing more than a knowing smile. The empty corridor beyond, the elevator ride to the top floor, and another corridor all passed in a whirlwind.

“Where are we going, John?” she asked.

“About … I don't know … maybe sixteen, seventeen years ago, I was here in D.C. with my dad and Dave. The company was sponsoring a big multinational charity fundraiser and my father thought it was important enough for us to make an appearance. Me, included.”

John scanned the rooms as they passed to make sure he was still remembering the layout correctly. He spotted a familiar floral pattern on the decoratively frosted windows and knew they were in the right place. Not much in these historic places really ever changed.

“Here it is.”

John tested the doorknob and found it unlocked. He led her inside.

“I'm kind of surprised it isn't being used for something tonight,” he muttered, taking in the big, empty room. Each covered with a white dust cloth, there were quite a number of tables around the room, but no chairs. A tall ladder was set up in the corner along with a stack of rolled up tarps and a large, orange tool box. “Guess it's closed for maintenance.”

“Should we not turn on the lights?”

He spun back around and smiled. “Won't need 'em.” There was enough residual light from the hallway and the city lights outside to make navigating through the maze of tables an easy task.

John and Teyla made their way to the windowed balcony doors and pulled them open. “Now, that's a view.”

“Oh, John,” Teyla said in hushed exclamation. From up here, they could see far more than fireworks. The entire city of Washington D. C. lay before them, lit up in all its holiday splendor. The partygoers in the gardens and city streets below, the White House, Lincoln Memorial, the Capitol building. Even the greenery interspersed throughout the city shone brilliantly beneath them.

“It's no Atlantis,” John murmured. “But it's not half bad.”

“It is amazing.”

He loved the enthusiasm in her voice. He couldn't imagine what it was like for her to be experiencing all this for the first time. It was an honor to be the one to show it to her.

Snowfall was in the air and the December wind kicked up, shifting to the northeast. Without the combined heat of a hundred and fifty people to offset the biting temperatures, Teyla stiffened and crossed her arms. Her stunning black dress, although fine for indoors, was no match for the elements.

John quickly shed his coat and in a swoop, slid it over her shoulders. He stood in front of her, pulling it snugly around her petite form. “Better?”

Despite the cold, she smiled and nodded. “Thank you, John.”

“Maybe we should head back inside for now. There's still a few minutes and it's not like I'll have to throw elbows to get our place back.”

She laughed that light, airy laugh that hit him in the gut every time.

Teyla's hair got caught in the breeze and sent a few loose strands across her cheek. “Besides, what kind of a guy lets his date freeze before the big finale?” he joked, gently brushing the hairs out of her face and behind her ears. When Teyla leaned into it, it felt nothing but right.

“Is this a proper date, John?”

“It is if you want it to be,” he said, his ability to pretend lost. He wasn't playing a game.

Her eyes were intent on his. “You should know, John, Col. Carter told me about the traditions generally observed on nights such as these.”

“Like what?”

“Those who are paired up often share a kiss when the clock strikes midnight.”

John apprehensively worked his lower lip. “She told you that, huh?”

Teyla nodded. Her eyes again engaged his and John was catapulted back to his dream world, where nothing and no one else existed but him, her, and a steel wall. All he had to do was heed the powerful tidal forces pulling him toward her and lean in.

Trying to keep his head on straight, he searched for the right thing to say. He reached up, maybe to caress her cheek or brush her hair back or grasp the nape of her neck, but his hand hung in the air, uncertain, until he brought it back down to his side. “We should get inside.”

Teyla's eyes dropped and swiftly returned, revealing nothing. But John knew that look. Too well lately. “Of course. You are right.”

He followed her through the glass doorway back into the vacant ballroom, the darkness inside seeming starker than before. Grasping his coat tightly, Teyla came to a stop beside the nearest table. Close behind, John stomach lurched when he saw the slight shake in her hands.

“Hey,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around her body. He rubbed vigorously along the lines of her back and Teyla laid her head on his shoulder. Friction soon did its job, warming his hands and the woman beneath, allowing her to relax. Why did he find it so easy to take of care of her when she needed it, but he couldn't find the words she needed to hear? He stood silently, rigid at being confronted with the fact that he was failing her again. Teyla deserved more than this. 

Teyla lifted her head. Inches away, the need in her eyes was as plain as day. “Why did you really come here, John?”

John swallowed heavily. Neither one of them could go on living just getting by in a world of unspoken possibilities. So much could be said with a look, a gesture. There was meaning in everything, even an impulsive act. But sometimes feelings needed a voice to become real. Sometimes you just need to hear it.

“Tell me,” she whispered.

Listening to her voice, his final walls cracked and fell to crumbles and ash. “Teyla, you know I'm … terrible at …”

The deep wells of her eyes held nothing but compassion and love. “I know.”

He could do this.

“I've been wondering a lot lately, if … maybe we only get a certain number of chances before it's too late. To say the things we need to say.” He paused. “And I know I've had more than I probably deserved. After that business with Thalen …”

Unexpectedly, Teyla smiled. He wasn't the only one feeling the tension. “When I nearly shot you?”

“Just before that,” he said, smiling himself. Probably not the best of memories to pick from, but important nonetheless. “When we left Atlantis, the entire time I was gone all I could think about was … whether I would ever see you again.”He reached for her face again and this time, he didn't shrink away. Her skin was so soft. “Then, we came back. We lost Carson and you were hurt. Then, Elizabeth …”

“I know.”

“I shouldn't have waited another minute, Teyla. I should've told you how I felt.

” She stroked the hand caressing her neck. “Tell me now, John.”

“I care about you, Teyla. I always have, but … it's more than that. A lot more.” She nodded and he knew couldn't stop there. They had let things go unsaid for far too long. “I had to come tonight because I … I'm in love with you. And after we talked yesterday, I thought … I thought that maybe this was my last chance.”

A tear ran down her cheek soon to be joined by another. “I love you, as well, John. I have … for a very long time.”

A strangled sound emerged from his throat. “Why didn't you ever say anything?”

She shook her head regretfully. “It is not how I was taught. Among my people, it is for the man to make his desires known. It is considered an act of bravery for him to lay his heart at another's feet.” Teyla ran a finger over his full lips. “It is a great honor. If I had been more forward and told you how I felt - how much I loved you - it would have meant robbing you of that.”

John trembled, the inches between them began to disappear. He whispered, “I've gotta tell you, Teyla, I'm not feeling too brave at the moment.”

“You are the bravest man I have ever known, John Sheppard.”

They moved together and kissed. In a soft meeting of lips, they set down all the unwritten rules they had never dared break together. John's lips rolled with hers in languorous, velvet strokes as Teyla molded to his body, exploring each other in a whole new way, allowing their hearts to beat truly for the first time. An elated sigh escaped her that slowly spurred him on to higher reaches of intensity. His tongue danced along hers, languid and deep. Savoring the elemental taste of her, John memorized every nuance, every moan.

With her arms hugging his waist, John's coat fell loose, hanging precariously from her shoulders. His breath thundering in his ears and hers echoing in ragged harmony, he groaned and broke away from the heavenly feel of her kiss. John reached for it and threw it back into place. This time he secured it, and her, flush against him in his tight embrace.

John nuzzled her neck and waited for their combined heat to merge. “Maybe I could get a handbook or something of Athosian traditions. Might help us avoid misunderstandings like this in the future.”

Teyla leaned into his attentions. “You are already familiar with many of our customs.”

“Obviously, I need a refresher course on the dos and don'ts of dating an Athosian.”

Unable to resist the temptation of her skin, he opened his mouth on her bare flesh, massaging her neck with his lips and sending Teyla moaning. “I will do my best from now on to keep you informed, John.”

He lifted up and kissed her hungrily. “Good.”

Outside, fireworks lit the sky. So wholly preoccupied in each other, Teyla startled at the initial bang. At his delighted laugh, she grew flushed. “Does this mean it is midnight?”

“That what it means.” 

He opened his arms just enough to allow her to turn around and see the grand spectacle outside the window.

He pressed a kiss to her hair. “A new year. How does it feel?” John was so light and happy he hardly knew how to describe it.

“I am unsure,” she said, peering up at him. “Were we not supposed to wait until midnight to kiss?”

“Well …” he considered. A battery of red, orange, and white cascades burst to life in the night sky. “When has our timing ever been perfect?”

“Rarely,” she said in the thunderous chorus of the explosions. “Perhaps next year we will have better luck.”

John's lips curled playfully. “Next year?”

“Unless you have other plans?”

A wide grin spread over his face. “It's a date.”

They stood together watching the fireworks in their intricately timed dance, their fingers doing one of their own, threading in and out to the drumming of the noise outside, unable and unwilling to part. John kissed her. Then he kissed her again and again, the woman he loved and never wanted to let go of. Soon, the fireworks were forgotten. Teyla settled on top of the table as they locked together, passionately teasing and testing their new bond.

His shirt was pulled loose and Teyla caressed his skin as he left a trail of kisses up her neck and learned the curves of her legs. “Were you speaking truthfully when you said you wished to learn more of Athosian customs?” she asked, short of breath.

“Of course.”

Her brow arched, a fire swirling in her eyes. She reached for his tie and undid her previous handiwork. “May we begin?”

That was one look he didn't need help understanding. “Are you sure?”

“We have lost so much time already, John. I do not want to waste one more second.”

He smiled as she began fingering the buttons of his shirt. “Okay. What's lesson number one?”

“Never leave your beloved wanting.”

The buttons came loose in rapid succession. Teyla took a breath to trail her fingers along the skin and hair of his chest and his hand crept up her thigh.

“And what is it my beloved wants?” he asked, his voice rapidly growing hoarse and raw.

“You, John. Only you.”


	6. Chapter 6

 

**EPILOGUE**

 

 

 

_“Teyla, come in. This is Sheppard.”_

Continuing down the winding corridor, she tapped her radio. “Yes, John?”

_“It's getting kinda lonely out here. You aren't planning on standing me up, are you?”_

A beaming smile crossed Teyla's face. She could picture him already, standing on the balcony overlooking the southwest pier, leaning against the railing to catch the breeze. With Atlantis at home once again in the Pegasus Galaxy and the luxurious hotels and massive fireworks shows of Earth far behind, things would be different this year. John had planned a simple dinner just for the two of them, but Teyla was still brimming with anticipation.

“I will be there shortly.”

_“You got TJ all squared away?”_

“Yes, John,” she repeated patiently, while picking up the pace. She arrived at the transporter and stepped inside.

Teyla paused, her heart speedily thumping along. For almost two weeks, she'd been eagerly awaiting this night, an all too rare chance to share a beautiful, romantic evening alone with the love of her life. She glanced down at herself. She wore the same snug, black dress she'd worn a year ago. Her hair was longer now and a diamond-encrusted band adorned her left hand, but the rest was the same. Teyla had other dresses, just as marvelous, she might have chosen, but this one somehow seemed perfect for the occasion. Anxiously, she smoothed it out one last time before pressing the button that would send her to him.

John appearing in the hotel had reminded her of the thrill of being a young girl again, having just received a flower from the boy she had been smitten with for weeks. And later, she rediscovered what it meant to be a woman, awoken by love and alive with possibility, nothing beyond reach or reason. When she'd checked on Torren that night, she'd made a promise to him and to herself that she would follow her heart. He deserved a mother that was truly happy, not merely content. And John was what made her happiest.

John Sheppard had already changed her life once, choosing her world at random and appearing through the Stargate, showing her a new hope for her people. With another spur of the moment gesture, he changed her world yet again.

Stepping out of the transporter, Teyla did not know if every New Year's Eve would always hold the same surprises or the same potential for change. How could it when last year had proven so significant? But this would not be the year they broke with tradition.

Teyla's hand settled on her stomach.

This year, she had a surprise of her own.


End file.
